Page 90

Otto nodded. “Spend more time in the dark than out of it,” he said cheerfully.

Patrick continued. “Briggs here is a clay kicker, though his particular area of expertise will no longer be needed.” Patrick’s eyes flickered to mine. “He’ll handle the struts. Gunner and I are grunt labor—we’ll move the dirt topside. Donny is our listening post. Mrs. Colson looks after things up top while we’re in the hole. And then there’s Nina Harrow,” he said as though he couldn’t quite believe he was saying it. “Our very own earth Charmer. There doesn’t exist a better team of diggers.” Patrick took a breath, exchanged a quick glance with his mother. “We’re tunneling all the way to Belavere City, ladies and gents, as quickly as we can.”

A hush ensued, save the static crackle of Patrick’s decree.

“It’s two hundred miles or more, Pat,” Otto breathed, permeating wariness. “Under the Gyser River. Right into enemy territory. You know the Artisans are listenin’ for vibrations in the ground. Burying land mines in wells for us to stumble onto.”

Patrick nodded. “The mines tick. We’ll hear ’em before we hit ’em.”

“We ain’t ever dug farther than Fenway,” Briggs said. “And that tunnel’s buried now.”

Tess sighed. “And why do you think we brought in a fuckin’ earth Charmer?”

Briggs gave me a furtive raised eyebrow. I felt a prickle of discomfit.

“As for the river,” Patrick interjected, “Theodore here will accompany, of course. He’s already improved the existing tunnels running south and west. He’ll divert the water, should it become a problem.”

“Oh, it’ll be a fuckin’ problem all right, Pat. It’s the fuckin’GyserRiver.”

The Gyser River was the continent’s longest and widest. It barreled through the Trench at impossible speed, splitting the brink in the east from Artisan-populated towns in the west, including Belavere City. “You can strut that tunnel in as much timber as you want and pack it full of Charmers. They’ll still drown the same. It’s impossible.”

“Then by all means, brother, back out.” Patrick said. The dare sounded like a bullet sliding into its chamber.

Gunner glared, his upper lip curling slightly to reveal that strange tooth. But he said nothing. In the space of his inaction, Patrick continued.

“That goes for anyone else who wants no part in this. It’ll be dangerous. I won’t claim that the path will be smooth—and even if we get there, there’s no promise of return.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell us what you intend to do in Belavere City, assuming we make it through?” Theo asked. He did not shy away from the volume of his own voice. He looked Patrick square in the eye.

But Patrick remained impenetrable. “Two years ago, a mission into the city took a turn, and several men were taken prisoner at the National Artisan House. I intend to retrieve those men.”

Tess turned her back at the mention of prisoners, muttering something I could not hear.

Theo seemed unsatisfied. “Surely that’s not all you plan to do. I’ve proven my loyalty to you enough times, Pat,” he said, standing his ground. “I deserve to know the full scope of things.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows at Theo’s tenacity. “Your job is to get us through those tunnels without them flooding. What more should you know, Charmer?”

“I should know if the people I’m leading into the capital intend to gun down every Artisan within reach.”

Gunner scoffed. “Fuckin’ swanks,” he muttered, making it clear that he didn’t think gunning down every Artisan was necessarily abadthing.

Polly cleared her throat. “I should like to know the same.” Her voice was more diplomatic than Theo’s but just as sure. “I’m on your side,” she said, her gaze shifting from Patrick to Otto, “but innocent people needn’t die.”

“Agreed.” Patrick nodded. “No innocents should die.”

Theo frowned, unconvinced. “And you intend to pop up in the middle of the city without needing to raise a weapon?”

“Ah, but we intend no such thing,” Patrick said, and Donny chuckled quietly. “That’d be suicidal.”

Theo frowned. “Then—”

“Thirteen years ago, Nina and I stumbled upon a cellar in the National Artisan House.” His eyes darted to mine for only a moment. “If we can tunnel into that cellar, we’ll have gained entrance to the House.”

I thought of ghostly linens and dry cake. Of Patrick’s hand squeezing around mine, begging me to be quiet. One look at his expression told me he was remembering the same.

Theo’s jaw ticked, and I could guess why. His father, Lord Shop, still presided in the House. “Do you plan on blowing the House to pieces?” he asked. “Like you did the school?”

Patrick tilted his head. I wondered if Theo had meant the barb to strike. If anything, Patrick seemed to be genuinely considering the option. “It’d be a sure way to win the war, eh?” he asked. “Blowin’ up all those lords.”